Eternity
by claraoswelve
Summary: Tag Scene to 'Mummy on the Orient Express". Clara and the Doctor have their first true dance. Whouffaldi fluff.


**A/N: After being overwhelmed by the amazing Whouffaldiness of this episode, I could help but write this. Enjoy :)**

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><p><em><strong>Eternity<br>**_

As far as peaceful nights went, this was the best she was going to get, Clara supposed. And actually, things were going...quite...normal for a change. She let out a little huff at that thought. She'd thought she'd forgotten the meaning of normal for a while.

Their last hoorah. Was this truly to be their final adventure? No matter how much she denied herself...no matter how much she _insisted _to herself that she was done. She was done with him. They'd have a nice little resolve, completed with champagne and a nice evening of laughs and smiles, but after this she was done...wasn't she?

Clara couldn't shake the feeling that the thoughts might be in vain. She'd spent so much time with that man...and thick though he was, insensitive, frustrating, and sometimes quite heartless...She knew that when she left, _left for good, _it would be more than difficult. Even if she actually managed to leave.

But right then, right in that moment, she tried hard to push the thoughts aside. With her hands clasped around the Doctors arm, and her head resting on his shoulder, _and the surprise _that he wasn't flailing about from the unexpected intimacy, she wanted everything to stop...she wanted nothing to change.

Clara had begun to notice several of the couples rising to their feet, particularly the more elderly couples of the group as _Foxes _had begun to sing a familiar song. Slowly but surely, man after woman, couple after couple, all rose from their seats, hands clasped in each others as they began to dance. Even in the cramped space of the tiny room, they all were managing to thoroughly enjoy their time with their partners.

Clara blinked a couple times, then the corner of her mouth hitched in show of a slight smile. She looked up at the Doctor, short hair falling delicately onto her shoulders as she gave him the eyes...the pleading, beautiful, big brown eyes.

"No." He said on a whim, giving her a knowing glare.

"Oh, come on." She gave his arm a slight tug, smile never faltering.

"Clara, I don't dance."

"Oh, I beg to differ. I remember a certain dance..."

"Don't..."

"Done by a certain man..." She screwed up her face in mock-concentration.

"Shut up!"

"Oh, what was it called."

"Clara..."

"The _Drunk Giraffe_?"

The Doctor did a mental face-palm, still flushing inwardly as he once again remembered his former self. Bow ties, fezzes, and the drunk giraffe. He had pretty much just been a big kid.

"And you expect me to do the _Drunk Giraffe,_" He twisted his lips as he practically spat the words out. "On the Oriental Express?"

"No," Clara said slowly, breaking contact to take a slight step back, only to regain it as she grasped both his hands in hers. "I expect to to dance for _real. _With _me._"

"I don't dance." He repeated, but his voice was less firm than before. He only slightly, begrudgingly allowed Clara to lead him to the middle of the floor.

"Come on." She said softly, still gripping his hands until they found and empty space. The voice of _Foxes _rang throughout the small space, creating a ghastly, quite admirable echo. Looking up into his eyes, which were staring down at her with a look of...almost dread...Clara guided one of the Doctor's hands to rest at her hip, while the other remain clasped in his, and raised up slightly above her head and to the side.

"Not so bad then, is it?" She offered, placing her free hand on his shoulder as she swayed slightly to the music.

The Doctor just let out a sort of grunt, but to his own surprise found himself relaxing into her touch a bit. Looking down into her bright brown eyes, which were staring up at him with an expression of adoration, he allowed himself a shadow of a smile. "I should probably get you to sign a waiver." He announced. "Don't want you suing me after the damage I will almost inevitably do to your feet."

Clara giggled at that. "Just relax." She prompted, stepping to the side, then the other, then forward, then back. After many failed, bruising attempts, the Doctor seemed to pick up on the rhythm a bit, finding himself more comfortable as they stepped to the beat of the soft song. "Not too bad a dancer, there, Time Lord."

"Not too bad yourself." He took the lead, his grip on her tightening a bit as they began to dance in small circles. Swaying, leaning from side to side, and fingers gripping the fabric on each others clothing, this was the closest to relaxation they'd ever come before.

"Wish it could always be like this." Clara mused, not really intending to utter the words aloud. She glanced upward at the Doctor with anxious eyes, inwardly wincing.

To her surprised his solely shrugged, a slight glimmer of consideration apparent on his face. It was only then that he began to truly take in the new sight surrounding them...the music had ceased its soothing tone, the light sound of shoes tapping on wood was no longer ringing in the air, and each and every couple was standing off to the side, watching the Doctor and Clara with enchanted smiles.

As soon as Clara took notice as well, a bright red flush tinted her cheeks. "I didn't realize..."

"Neither did I." The Doctor admitted, a bit surprised to find that their own movement continued. "It's okay."

She resumed her dance along with him, but was staring up with a shocked expression. "What?"

"For once," He uttered a soft chuckled. "I don't care. Just ignore them."

And so Clara did just that. The corners of her lips raised in the brightest smile, she continued the step with a greater enthusiasm than she previously possessed. She leaned forward to press her forehead against the Doctor's chest, once again surprised at his sudden ignorance to his previously demanded lack of intimacy. Perhaps that good reprimand was what he'd needed. Perhaps it had really shown him...not just what he'd done, but how he'd affected her. How he'd been tending to affect her quite often lately. Sometimes, sitting home alone, cup of tea in hand, she regretted the harsh words she'd practically spit at him. Sometimes.

But she couldn't even bring herself to think upon their previous wobble. That was an eternity ago now...she could spend an eternity like _this._

And maybe, just maybe, she was ready to give that eternity to the Doctor.

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><p><strong>AN: Review?**


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